Chapter 636: Act 377 – The Valkyrie’s Charge (Part 2)
The final counterattack plan was quickly approved.
Freya did not know how Senior Sister Nemeses and Baltar convinced the nobles, perhaps it was indeed the Grand Priest Wood who believed it was an opportunity. In any case, she had finally managed to temporarily halt the army’s retreat.
This was the last chance.
In the next twenty minutes, it would be decided whether the Human Alliance could struggle for the power to confront the demons for another hour. It sounded unbelievable, but today, here, the hope of the Erluin people rested solely on this.
A chilling cold permeated the heavy rain, as if pressed against a steel blade.
Marquis Baltar divided the defending forces of the Fort Bunoan in two, merging the main force of the White Lion army into the officer trainees of the Royal Knight Academy, and then entrusted this troop to Nemeses for her personal command.
This was something that would never have occurred in the past in Erluin; the nobles would never give up their own armies and power. Their greed held them like cold phantoms, stubbornly clinging to what they had.
But as Baltar transferred command, he said to the lady knight, “I am handing the White Lion army over to you, my lady.”
A simple sentence stirred even the expressionless face of the lady knight. She thought for a moment and then silently accepted the banner of the White Lion.
The rain fell heavily, and whether the soldiers remaining or those about to rush to the front line, the future seemed just as bleak, yet this perilous situation felt insubstantial.
The command echoed for a long time, and the city gates slowly opened.
In Freya’s eyes, the battlefield intertwined with blood and fire suddenly felt particularly real and close. The bright flames slicing through the night seemed to draw the battlefield closer, and the tremors from explosions swept across the region as she watched the city gates creaking.
Senior Sister Nemeses was not far ahead on horseback, merely a step ahead of her. Among the nearby troops were familiar faces: Owen, Bud, and the future Erluin trio, Carlo and Enroch, while the older Carglis led his White Lion Guards.
The gray troop surged out, and the demons quickly noticed the movements of the humans, a horde of hellhounds appeared on the battlefield. But Freya looked far into the sky and saw the figures of the savage demons, who seemed to be charging toward Fort Bunoan. As expected, they aimed to take advantage of the humans splitting their forces to seize this critical point on the battlefield.
Everyone held their breath.
Before giving the order for the army to set out, Nemeses halted her warhorse one last time. The cold lady knight took one last look at Fort Bunoan, where a flag stood out prominently against the heavy rain.
The crescent moon of Erluin atop it seemed to have just risen.
Her usually indifferent face softened.
“Senior sister?” Freya noticed the lady knight’s unusual behavior.
Nemeses glanced at her, not correcting her form of address: “Freya, someone is showing off to us.”
“Eh?”
“Have someone raise the White Lion banner, and I’ll show them. Seven hundred years ago, the White Lion army defeated the last army of the Crusian with the help of the mountain folk here; seven hundred years later, we can do the same.”
Nemeses replied coldly.
When Marquis Baltar saw that familiar banner unfurling in the rain, even after nearly fifty years in the military, his eyes could not help but feel a warmth. He suddenly recalled the first time under that banner, when the old legion commander personally taught him the glory of the White Lion.
That past glory felt so dim in this moment but still gleamed faintly.
Like sparks erupting from the warmth beneath ashes.
The marquis stood in the rain, reflecting on many things in that moment.
His first time donning the armor of the White Lion, his first knightly duel, his first time on horseback, his first inhalation of the cold, stinging air of the battlefield, and the ensuing multitude of conspiracies and struggles. Yet every subsequent victory could not compare to the pure thrill of overcoming an enemy on the battlefield for the first time.
For almost two centuries, the White Lion army had achieved glory not for victory but for protecting something, as if returning to its original intent.
He sniffed the slightly bloody and earthy scent on the wind from the main battlefield of Fort Bunoan, as if returned to that grand battlefield, facing the army from the Temple of Wind.
At that time, the Sword Saint was still around, and Lord Reld still commanded the White Lion army; he had been just a small knight.
But everything had changed.
Whether it was the flags fluttering on the battlefield or the crests of the knights, or the faces nearby, everything had become different.
“Commander, the demons have begun their attack.”
“There’s no need to report that to me; I can see it.”
Baltar replied. Out on the plains, the demons surged like a red tide, as far as the eye could see—those loathsome creatures were everywhere. After the last attack, Fort Bunoan had enjoyed several minutes of respite, but now the demons had discovered the humans’ intentions and prepared to seize the opportunity to eliminate this thorn in their throat.
After splitting their forces, the defending strength of the fort had become considerably thinner. Yet the soldiers chosen to remain behind bore no complaints; most were the older and more experienced members of the White Lion army. These men gathered on the walls with generous hearts ready to die, their silver-gray armor forming a thin human wall.
“Slaves of the cave-dwelling creatures sighted, expected to enter range in one minute.”
“Watch out for the flying demons, uncover the rain cloths on the ballistae—”
“The parapet is ready; seal the gaps.”
Commands kept passing down, as the messengers shouted hoarsely, as if they were exhausting all their strength to rally the last remnants of courage.
A wave of arrows whistled over Freya’s head, causing her and everyone nearby to instinctively duck.
A wide road leading from Fort Bunoan to Meidao had long been ripped apart by the demons’ spells, and the soldiers were forced to advance along the riverbed of a stream. After crossing beneath a stone bridge, the walls of Meidao village appeared in sight.
In the distance, traces of the cave lizard shooters could be seen—these subterranean creatures resembled surface lizardmen. However, they had brownish-yellow skin and pale eyes, better adapted to combat in darkness. But more prominent were the lesser demons; from this distance, Freya could see their disgusting crimson skin.
“Captain, there are a pack of hellhounds behind us,” someone shouted in the wind and rain.
“Don’t mind them; tell me if the banner is still up.”
Someone turned back to look in the direction of Fort Bunoan, “Captain, the banner is still there!”
“That’s good. Keep moving forward.”
Another wave of arrows struck, and the front line of White Lion soldiers went down in unison. Then three ballistae whistled through the crowd, one of which flew past Freya and struck Bud behind her. The straightforward girl screamed as she was dragged off her horse, disappearing into the darkness in an instant.
“Bud!” Freya let out a desperate cry.
But Nemeses coldly shouted, “Don’t worry about her; any of us could die here. Carry on with the will of the fallen, all of you, do not look back.”
The flag of the White Lion was passing through the entire battlefield.
Baltar was covered in blood, watching the holy white lion shrinking in the rainy night. Once, an elder of the White Lion army had told him that the white lion possessed a soul; once it had promised the late king Eke to become a spirit to guard the White Lion army. Thus, the soul of the legion was entrusted to this lion.
Of course, this was just a legend.
Marquis Baltar never believed such absurd tales, but he had to acknowledge that such a soul indeed existed within the White Lion army. But it was not housed in the lion; it was housed in each individual of this army.
The cave-dwellers had been repelled, leaving a ground littered with corpses amidst the ruins. They were merely cannon fodder, but unfortunately, many from the White Lion army would forever lie in eternal sleep from this wave of attack.
The soldiers on the parapet watched the cave-dwellers retreat like receding tide, but from behind them emerged many massive figures—hellhounds and savage demons appeared on the battlefield.
The second wave of attack came swiftly—
“Watch the skies.”
“By Martha, this seems endless.” Someone murmured as they gazed at the loathsome creatures in the darkness, “Do you think the nobles behind us will come to our aid?”
“You’re daydreaming.”
A low chuckle spread across the parapet. Amidst the laughter, Baron Baltar wiped his face and turned back to ask, “How far have they advanced?”
“It seems they have reached the designated attack point, my lord.”
Ten minutes left. Baltar nodded.
What answer could ten minutes provide?
Probably no one on the battlefield could clarify that. Hundreds of cave lizard shooters on the makeshift walls of Meidao village were skillfully shooting, an orange-red shield enveloping them, providing magical protection against the rain that would dampen their longbows.
To be honest, this seemed excessive to Nemeses— they had no capacity for ranged strikes left. Humans had exhausted their ammunition; high-level combat power had suffered devastating losses, and the Gray Saint Mephistopheles along with that powerful vampire under his command had drawn that demon lord away from the battlefield, yet the remaining knights of the Temple of Fire were also dwindling.
Master Livwz was holding back the demon air force in the sky, but the ability to delay was clearly diminishing. More and more savage demons were unleashed to join the battlefield.
Nemeses took out her pocket watch to check the time.
The siege ladders had already been raised.
The soldiers of the White Lion army, clad in silver-gray armor, were the first to launch an attack, streaming up the siege ladders to assault the makeshift walls, but the frontal assault had already been repelled twice. There were Minotaurs behind the parapet, and they were not few in number; human soldiers were merely marching to their deaths.
She quickly realized this.
Time was running out. As the soldiers of the White Lion army were repelled for the third time, Nemeses drew her sword. She turned around to take one last look; the banner of Erluin still flew atop Fort Bunoan.
But perhaps only Lady Martha knew how much longer it could hold.
“Freya, come with me; this time, I’ll personally lead the charge. If we can’t succeed, let us die in the attempt.”
“Captain…”
“We don’t have time any longer.”
(TO BE CONTINUED. If you enjoy this work, feel free to vote for it on Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation.)
